Day of Remembrance
by spottedhorse
Summary: Brass runs into an aquaintance at a Memorial Day parade.


It has been suggested that I attempt something with a certain someone in mind, lol. So here it is!

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><p>"Shit," Jim Brass muttered to himself as he walked out of the office building onto the hot sidewalk and into a crowd that had gathered to watch the parade. If only he'd managed to get away from the crime scene a few minutes earlier, he'd be scot free now and back at PD, signing out and heading home. Instead, he was stuck as the participants marched by.<p>

Then shrugging he thought, "what the hell…might as well watch." A unit of the local National Guard marched by, bringing cheers and applause from the onlookers. Next came a Boy Scout Troop. And then the Girl Scouts. He saluted as the VFW chapter marched by, the vets from WWII leading the way, followed by the Korean and Vietnam vets. Jim smirked. "I could join them when I retire," he thought briefly, "and march in the parades."

He tried to look to the end of the parade, trying to decide how much longer he would have to stand there and then he considered cutting across in front of the mounted riders that were moving closer. "No…it's Memorial Day. I can at least stop long enough to pay some respect…"

His mind flashed back to his days in Vietnam and as he reflected, "hell, they could be marching for me if things had gone differently." And then he paused to remember his buddies that had come home in pine boxes. Some he could remember their names and some, the names were gone but he remembered their faces. And there were a few whose blood he could still feel on him in his dreams. Yeah, he thought, he was one of the lucky ones.

Sighing, he looked down the street again, trying to see if the end was near, when he heard a soft voice behind him. "Captain Brass," she said with a lilt.

Swallowing before he turned, he paused and then looked around. Standing just behind him was a woman and a little girl. "La…Heather," he corrected himself, remembering that she was no longer a dominatrix. Looking down at the little girl, he wasn't sure what she knew about her grandmother and he didn't want to be the one to open that can of worms.

She smiled that smile of hers, smug and condescending and warm all at the same time. But looking into her eyes, he could see she was truly happy to see him. "You here for the parade?" he asked.

She nodded, glancing at the street and then back at the little girl. "I brought Allison. She likes parades."

Glancing back at the small girl, he grinned. "Yeah, I remember when my daughter was little. We went to every parade possible."

"And you?" Heather asked curiously.

Me? Oh uh, I just left, you know… a scene. I'd forgotten about the parade and kind of just walked into it," he said sheepishly.

She looked at him appraisingly. "I'm surprised," she said mildly.

He frowned, not sure he understood her meaning and not sure he wanted to.

"It's just that I would think this is the sort of thing you would consciously take time for," she explained.

"Oh," he shrugged as he noticed the last of the marchers going by. "Yeah, well… I lost a few buddies who are worth remembering."

She looked at him appreciatively. Opening her mouth to speak, she was interrupted by Allison. "Grandmother, please…you said we could go for ice cream." The child tugged at her grandmother's sleeve and looked warily at Jim.

"Yes, Allison. But at the moment I am talking with Captain Brass. Please don't be rude."

Allison looked up at Jim again. "I'm sorry," she said remorsefully.

Jim smiled at the child. "Ice cream?"

"Uh huh. There's a ice cream shop next to Grandmother's office and they make good ice cream," the child said hopefully.

Jim looked at Heather. "Your office?"

"Yes, I have my practice there…I'm a psychologist."

Jim nodded. "Oh yeah…I remember now. A ," he hesitated, looking at the child, "therapist."

Heather looked at him with a smirk. "Yes. Now, if you'll excuse us…"

Suddenly not wanting to be alone again, Jim caught her arm. "Hey, look….why don't you let me buy ice cream for the two prettiest ladies at the parade?"

He chuckled as her surprise registered in her expression. "You want to buy…." Then tilting her head, she laughed quietly. Then looking down at Allison, she asked her granddaughter. "What do you think, Sweetheart? Should we let a true hero buy us ice cream?"

Allison looked at Jim with sparkling eyes. "You a hero?" Jim looked at the girl and then quizzically at Heather.

"I told her that all soldiers are heroes. I think she's asking if you are a soldier."

Nodding, Jim answered. "Not a soldier…a Marine," he stated proudly.

Alison scrunched her brow. "A Marine?"

"Yeah." And then spotting some Marines in uniform standing on the opposite side of the street, he pointed. "Like those guys."

"Oh….," she said appreciatively. "Okay. They got pretty suits."

Jim looked at Heather and shrugged. Heather laughed. "They do…and I'm sure you looked very pretty in yours too." Then her demeanor changing, she followed with, "I hope you have lots of money, Captain Brass. Allison has expensive tastes when it comes to ice cream."

"I'm loaded," he teased, still somewhat thrown by her pretty comment. "And maybe you could just call me Jim since we're all going to have ice cream together. But first, I need to make a phone call."

"Business?" she said warily.

"Yeah, gotta tell them I'm signing out," he winked.

A few minutes later, Jim found himself seated at a table in the ice cream parlor. Allison had ordered a hot fudge sundae. Heather had opted for a sugar-free banana split. And Jim was digging a spoon into a triple scoop chocolate bowl. As he finished a bite, he looked across at Heather. "Thank you. I was thinking some pretty bleak thoughts when you and Allison came along."

Heather smiled, warmly this time. "You surprise me Ca….Jim."

"Me? I do?"

"Yes. I didn't think you liked me very much."

"Yeah well…it wasn't so much you as your….career. I guess I've seen to many bad things surrounding … that career field. And I'll admit that I lost patience with you the last time I saw you. I wanted to find the…" he glanced at Allison, who seemed absorbed by her sundae but he knew kids often heard everything. Looking back at Heather he continued, "person…"

She looked cautiously at her granddaughter and then gratefully back at Jim. "Yes, I suppose I was being less than co-operative."

"You know, despite what you thought back then, I've always liked you. And the awkward spots Grissom kept finding himself in with you was … entertaining. I was just worried that it might become career ending for him."

Her eyes acknowledged his concern. "Have you heard from Grissom?"

Suspicious but accepting that she was probably just asking as a friend, he nodded. "Sort of. Sara is back at the lab and we hear about him occasionally from her. He's not much of a letter writer."

"Interesting," she said thoughtfully. "But he is well…and happy?"

"As far as I know. They got married, you know?"

She smiled. "I expected as much. And actually, I did meet Sara again. She was working on a case…"

"Oh, that's right."

"Your Dr. Ray… he is troubled," she stated quizzically.

Jim nodded agreement. "And it has gotten worse. Don't know if you watch the news much, but he was under investigation in the death of Nate Haskell."

"The serial killer? Now, that is interesting…"

"Yeah, I.A. thought it might have been intentional."

Her dark eyes focused on him intently. "And was it?"

Uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation, Jim shifted in his seat. He regretted it immediately, knowing Heather would pick up on such a thing. "I guess only he really knows what happened. But I.A. eventually cleared him…lack of evidence," his voice drifting off at the end as his mind replayed why the evidence disappeared.

Heather looked at him calculatingly. "And you? Do you think it was intentional?"

Feeling very awkward and uncomfortable with the questions, Jim swallowed. "I think that whatever happened, Haskell deserved what he got. We knew his previous history and he attacked Ray last year. And then for the past year he harassed Ray, finally kidnapping his ex-wife and….well even you probably couldn't imagine what was done to her… if it was intentional, I believe it was still justified. I know if it had been me in Ray's shoes…."

"Before… what happened to my daughter, I would have thought your attitude brutal. But having lost her, especially in the manner in which I did, I believe I have some understanding of Ray's…motivations. And yours. You are very protective of those you care about." Her tone was not accusing or even judgmental; conversely, she seemed a little impressed.

Jim looked at her, unapologetically. "I am." Then looking over at Allison, he smiled. "But we should have happier things to discuss."

Looking at her granddaughter with affection, Heather responded. "Most certainly."

Heather began talking about taking Allison to the latest Cirque show and Allison added her own thoughts on the show. Jim listened attentively and commented that he hadn't seen that one yet. Finally the conversation was finished along with the ice cream and Jim walked Heather and Allison to her car. "Well…thank you," he told Heather.

She looked at him questionably. "Allison and I should be thanking you…for the ice cream."

Jim glanced at the child and then back at Heather. She really was being very sensitive and understanding. "Hey…kids and ice cream… isn't that why guys like me go to war to begin with?"

Heather smiled. "And those other things like freedom and preserving out way of life."

Jim shrugged. "Yeah, those too," he answered with a smile. Then glancing down at Allison, he cleared his throat. "Hey, how about…I mean, would it be okay if I called you sometime…for dinner or something?" He looked back at Heather hopefully.

Amusement flashed in her face. "Are you sure you would like to do that? Take me to dinner, I mean?"

Slightly flushed by her question, Jim replied. "The older I get, the less sure I am of anything. But yes, I would like to take you to dinner and maybe…we could get to know each other better…outside of our ….careers."

She smiled sincerely. "I think I would enjoy that as well…outside of our careers. So yes, please do call me…sometime."

Jim watched her car pull away wondering what the heck he was thinking. But it had been a nice start to his Memorial Day, one that might keep his thoughts from being too dark on this day of remembrance.

As he walked back to his car, he passed the group of Marines he'd pointed out to Allison. Pulling a $100 bill from his wallet, he shook the sergeant's hand and nodded at the others. "Hey, you guys have a drink on me," he told them. "One Marine to another."

The sergeant smiled and thanked him. "You were a Marine?' the young man asked. "Vietnam your war?"

Jim nodded. One of the privates spoke up, "why don't you join us, sir?"

Jim chuckled. "Don't sir me, Marine. I never made it above Corporal. And thanks but I need to get home. You fellas enjoy." And then as he started to walk off, he turned and called back to them, "Semper Fi."

"Semper Fi," they called back as they smiled and eyed the bill that the sergeant was pocketing.

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><p>I hope this touched a little something in everyone. It wasn't terribly deep because I'm not in that kind of mood right now. But as I think about those who did not come back on this day of remembrance, I can't help but think of those who come back maimed and scarred as well. Sadly, many return with injuries that we can see and that they will carry for the rest of their lives. But we must also remember those who come back with internal scars, which includes just about anyone who has seen combat duty. The things they see and sometimes are called on to do haunt them. Brass, I believe, carries those kind of scars. So besides just being a Brassfanatic, I used him in this because he is the one who has seen that kind of duty. And as my father was a Marine, I understand that life may take them in different directions after they leave the Corps, but the Corps never quite leaves them. It is a part of who they are. I borrowed my dad's example when Brass gave the Marines money for drinks. Dad did that all the time. We might have a tough time putting a meal on the table at home, but he always seemed to have money to buy a fellow Marine a drink. Thanks for reading and I hope you are having a great Memorial Day weekend!<p> 


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